


Dangerous Illusion

by reanimatorjuice



Series: Circus of Fears [2]
Category: Original Work, The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: 1920s, Anal Sex, Beta Read, Blowjobs, Bottom!Vincent, Circus, Drinking, French Kissing, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Jazz Age, M/M, PWP, Period Typical Attitudes, Period Typical Slang Terms, Porn with Feelings, Porn with Lore, Romanian beta reader hrgdfgjk, Smoking, Top!Damian, avatar shenanigans (consensual), but! they're cis men and basically married what'll happen, i did my research lube existed but was prescription and i doubt they knew oil would degrade condoms, listen it was the 1920s, not... particularly safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:08:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28068291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reanimatorjuice/pseuds/reanimatorjuice
Summary: Shameless smut between my two TMA avatar OCs Vincent and DamianCharacter sheets, the general establishing fic, and more info are all linked in the beginning notes should you want to learn more about them before reading, but not absolutely necessary for that sweet pornography
Relationships: OC/OC, Original Character/Original Character, Vincent Teller (OC)/Damian Romanescu (OC)
Series: Circus of Fears [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056092
Kudos: 2





	1. The First Draft

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I love these two very much and hope other people enjoy them as much as I do. 
> 
> If you want to know more, [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1p_lV_zk2J76A6q63mZH5JXz-6-bP521cnnImDSxu3C4/edit?usp=sharing) are their character sheets with a lot more info and [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1s0wXeRhCr716ijqe2__tl33jwsSVmrbyqGvw4gHFTZY/edit?usp=sharing) is a general fic of their backstories on Google Docs (WIP if you want to watch me work in real-time but the fic is up [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28068120/chapters/68763807)!) 
> 
> I also made [Vincent](https://pin.it/2UyEu1m) and [Damian](https://pin.it/6eAIAHs) Pinterest boards as well as a [playlist](https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLkFVYAOUmByRvx0DADL3QwO6wPf6AIHVk). Thank you ily 
> 
> Also, this is a first draft, but as the second (hopefully final) draft will be WILDLY different from what I can tell (totally scrapping and rewriting from a different perspective in hopes that it'll be sexier that way), I decided to post both versions as chapters. NSFW commissioned art of this fic also coming soon, which I hope to attach to the second chapter. I've written smutty drabbles but never a full fic so bear with me >.<

**_Outskirts of St. Louis, Missouri. September 1924_ **

Vincent was nursing a Gin Rickey cocktail, sitting on a foldable chair outside of his personal caravan and watching Damian do his nightly workout. It was a cool night, and Vincent could hear the chorus of crickets in the trees that surrounded the site where their pitched tent was. 

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and swirled the last of his drink around in his glass. Their last show had finished hours ago, so he now watched in only a pair of trousers and his shirt, which was unbuttoned about midway. He shivered a little with the chill air seeping through his loose clothing. His makeup had already been removed and his hair washed and messed from its usual slicked-back style. 

Vincent paid close attention to Damian’s movements. He was doing pushups now, and Vincent noticed his muscles were taut as strings, certainly -- with Damian’s routine -- strong enough to lift himself and a couple of men more. Most of the other performers had gone to bed to prepare for the show the next morning, but Damian was relentless. His sweat shone on his skin in the moonlight, making it look almost like he was glowing. 

Vincent’s finger tapped the side of the glass, and it clinked where it met the ring on his finger. It was an heirloom Damian’s mother meant for him to wear when he married some pretty American girl with whom he’d give his mother lots of grandchildren. That wouldn’t come to be. Damian had given it to him. They couldn’t get married, of course, and Vincent probably wouldn’t live to see the day where they could, but he fondly recalled the day when they’d been lying in the field beyond the town together, and Damian had awkwardly but simply handed it to him.  _ “It was my father’s ring,”  _ he’d said in that lovely accent of his,  _ “Before he died. I want you to have it. We can pretend.”  _

Damian had said then too that Vincent’s eyes were the same as the forget-me-nots that grew in Romania when he was a child. It made Vincent hate them a little less for looking like his father’s. 

The other performers in their show might have thought Vincent had found a wife back home (he didn’t have a home, not anymore, but they didn’t need to know that) -- some nameless woman who longed for him to come home, and that he must miss her terribly. It was a good thing he’d found such…  _ good company  _ in their best acrobat then. If Kristof found out about their “dalliances,” they might be out of the job. However, Vincent had some suspicions about Mr. Alberti of his own, so he paid little heed to any warnings and flaunted his sexuality quite readily. His parents had always worried about him being a bit of a daisy, but with the kind of  _ unique individuals  _ that they worked with, fucking a coworker was more of a taboo than being a homosexual. 

Vincent could do whatever he liked, though. The Greatest Show on Earth wouldn’t be half as great without him. 

Downing the last of his gin, Vincent stood and set the glass on the chair where he’d sat and walked over to where Damian was now doing pull ups using the gymnast bar. He could see the muscles beneath his skin ripple and flex as he pulled his full body weight up and down again. Vincent loved Damian’s body as much as Damian did. The other man was short but strong -- acrobats were always built somewhere between the lithe form of a dancer and the stocky tank of a gymnast. He was wearing nothing but the tights he performed in as well as a tucked-in wife beater. 

Like some lurid anatomy lesson, Vincent was unapologetically checking out both his ass and the prominent bulge in Damian’s tights. He knew Damian was vividly aware of both his presence and gaze, but both of them pretended not to care. 

Vincent took out his cigarette case and pulled out a lucky, placing it delicately between his lips and lighting it. He inhaled, feeling the warmth fill his lungs and head before pulling away and exhaling the smoke. He cleared his throat, not intending to interrupt Damian but apparently did so nonetheless. 

_ “La naiba!” _ Damian hissed under his breath, letting go of the bar and rubbing at his sore palms.

Vincent gestured with the cigarette in his hand. “I told ya you’d get blisters if you don’t use that chalk powder Alberti insists on.” 

“And I tell you to quit smoking, we don’t always listen to reason,” Damian grimaced and plucked the half-finished cigarette from Vincent’s fingers and stamped it out on the ground. “I have a better grip on the bar if I don’t. The callouses that form only help me.” 

Vincent pouted at the loss of his cigarette, but raised an eyebrow at that. “Calloused hands or a calloused soul?” Damian had always been quite aloof to others. 

“I’m in no mood for your philosophical talk,” Damian huffed, and Vincent grinned. 

He tsked. “Very well,” Vincent made a face of faux consideration for a moment. He couldn’t lie, (actually, he could quite well), watching Damian had gotten him a little riled up, though the chill helped him keep his sense. “It’s cold tonight. Think you could use some company? My caravan is quite warm, and so am I.” 

Damian gave a rare chuckle. “You call this cold? What’s this about?” They both knew, but Damian wanted him to say it. Vincent could oblige. 

“I like watching you. You’re quite attractive when you work out,” he said in a honeyed tone. 

“You sound like that Magnus fellow, always watching. And I believed you thought yourself the most beautiful man in the world.” 

Vincent smiled wider and raised his hands in playful defense. “I think you’re the bee’s knees, baby, you know that.” 

Vincent led Damian into his caravan. The inside was as flamboyant as Vincent was on stage -- intricately decorated with reds and golds and filled with a menagerie of tricks and trinkets. His soft but small bed was almost no bigger than a book-reading shelf seat on the other side of the room. It was warm, with soft, yellow lighting from one of those new electric lanterns, and the camper stove burned low with dying coals, filling the room with the scent of smoke and sweet herbs. 

As soon as the door was shut, Vincent turned and pressed Damian up between the caravan door and himself. Caressing the other man’s jaw with both hands, Vincent looked into Damian’s walnut-brown eyes intensely, and -- if Damian said so -- hypnotically. Damian was already breathing hard from his workout, and now Vincent was too from the intoxication of both arousal and gin. Damian had riled him up more than he thought. 

Vincent brushed his lips across Damian’s lightly, and felt the other man almost quiver in anticipation. With their lips just barely touching, Vincent paused, and they breathed each other's air for a just moment. The energy was crackling and sparking between them like electricity. 

“Don’t tease,” Damian whispered against Vincent’s lips. He felt Vincent grin. 

“You like it,” he breathed, and finally caught Damian’s lips in a heated kiss. 

Their teeth clicked as the kiss was almost bruising, crushing. Sliding his fingers down Damian’s neck and resting on his chest, Vincent lightly tugged at the collar of his undershirt, silently asking him to take it off. Damian hummed in response and pulled back, quickly throwing the shirt over his head and tossing it onto the ground before kissing Vincent once more. 

Catching Vincent by surprise, Damian grabbed him by the shoulders and turned them around, slamming him back against the door so that they’d switched places. Damian felt just as drunk as Vincent must’ve been, now -- it was either the effect of the Spiral or the dizzying haze of arousal. Or both. 

Their kisses were almost desperate as Vincent shakily undid the rest of the buttons on his shirt, doing his best to seductively slide the fabric off his shoulders, exposing milk-white and willowy arms. Damian was always astounded by how different they were. Vincent’s delicate hand came up to touch Damian’s cheek, and he pulled at Vincent’s own undershirt, which was tucked into his trousers. Pulling away to get it over his head, they both stood there panting for a moment, staring at each other. Damian’s eyes raked over Vincent’s bare chest. He stepped forward, which made Vincent instinctively step back -- closer to the bed. 

“ _ Ǐngeraș _ , darling…” Damian gave him the smallest hint of a smile. “You drive me mad.” 

Vincent smiled. “I hope so.” 

He gave a small, surprised shout when Damian shoved him backward. For a moment, it felt like he was falling harder and faster than should’ve been possible before he landed on the bed with a huff. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Vincent pouted. 

Damian chuckled and shrugged, “You’re cute when you’re surprised.” 

He climbed onto the bed so that he was looming above Vincent. Their lips met again, and Damian sucked Vincent’s lip into his mouth before biting it and pulling. He ran his tongue over the other man’s lips to soothe the tingling and pushed in further, asking to be let in. Vincent granted it, opening his lips more and tilting his head to get ever closer. He groaned into the kiss as Damian massaged his tongue against his. The room was silent save for the wet sound of lips moving together, with the occasional huff or moan. 

Vincent felt like his whole body was on fire. His heart stuttered in his chest when Damian shoved a hand between his legs and roughly groped the bulge in his trousers. It sent shockwaves up his spine and made him see stars. Damian massaged him through his trousers for several beats, moving his head lower to bite and suck a hickey where Vincent’s neck met his shoulder -- where it wouldn’t be seen. He let out a high-pitched whine, arching his hips up, longing for more friction. Damian chuckled lowly and pulled away once more, this time reaching for Vincent’s belt. 

With the belt out of the way and on the floor, Vincent unbuttoned his trousers and lifted his hips again to allow Damian to pull them off. He folded them neatly and threw them onto the nearest chair, knowing that Vincent would have a fit in the morning if they were wrinkled before his show. 

Torturously slow, Damian pulled off Vincent’s underwear. His dick flopped against his stomach, flush and hard, and Vincent mewled at the lack of touch. Damian’s cock was perfectly outlined in his tights now, which Vincent would have found funny were it not for his present state. 

Keeping his eyes locked with Vincent’s, Damian peeled off the tights. Acrobats don’t wear underwear in tights, and Vincent silently thanked God for that. 

Vincent sat up, both of them now completely naked, and climbed onto his knees in front of Damian. His lips were red and swollen from their kissing, and Damian inhaled sharply as Vincent made eye contact before taking him into his mouth. 

His head bobbed a few times before he hollowed his cheeks and sucked, then sloppily swirled his tongue around the head. Damian bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut, head falling back as he made a strangled noise when Vincent added a hand to start pumping and practically took him into his throat. Vincent looked up to see Damian’s black, wavy hair that he knew was as soft as it looked fall over his eyes. He wanted Damian to watch. Still pumping with one hand, Vincent played with Damian’s balls in the other, and he gently scraped his teeth up the side of Damian’s cock before dipping his tongue into the slit. He gave another hoarse gasp, eyes opening and his hips jerking forward enough that Vincent made a choked sound and pulled back a bit. 

Damian felt engulfed in wet heat and had to bite back a yell when Vincent moaned around him. He was dazed and breathless as Vincent fucked him with his mouth. But it felt like it was over as soon as it started when Vincent felt Damian’s cock twitch against his tongue and he pulled away. He gave a husky laugh when Damian whimpered, barely audible. 

“I’m not letting you finish yet,” he said. 

Climbing back onto the bed and reaching over to the drawer, Vincent pulled out the small bottle of oil he kept there and a condom. He handed the cardboard envelope that held the condom to Damian and opened the bottle, pouring some of the thick lubricant onto his fingers. He rubbed it between them to warm it up before laying back down on the bed and spreading his legs. 

Knowing that Damian’s eyes were on him, which only aroused him further, Vincent lightly ran a hand from his neck down to his groin, keeping eye contact with his partner. It took a lot for him to pass over his cock to give attention to opening himself up instead. 

Bringing his other hand up to one of his nipples and playing with it, Vincent took a slicked finger and massaged the rim. He inhaled quietly but sharply, and tensed for a moment at the sensation. They’d been traveling and working so much, it had been too long since they’d done this last. He breathed out slowly and closed his eyes, bidding himself to relax. He prodded his hole a moment before slowly sliding in a lubricated finger. Vincent shuddered, savoring the sensation of both his finger pumping in and out, and Damian’s gaze practically searing into where he watched Vincent work. When the mild discomfort melted into nothing but pleasure, Vincent added a second finger, fucking himself open in front of Damian and loving every minute of it. 

Vincent let out a hoarse groan as he curled his fingers and a burst of pleasure shot through him. He was a loud lover he knew, but he was a performer at heart and never refrained from putting on a show. He stretched himself open more with his fingers, testing the waters before adding in a third finger. He bit his lip and hummed, feeling every minutiae of his own fingers moving in and out of him. 

He felt Damian crawl onto the bed and move on top of him, clearly tired of just watching. Eyes still closed, Vincent lifted his head to meet Damian in a deep kiss. He moaned into it when Damian grabbed Vincent’s cock and started to stroke it slowly, pumping it a few times before letting go and bringing the hand to his jaw. 

Vincent pulled back an inch. “I’m ready,” he whispered, and removed his fingers. 

He opened his eyes, watching Damian grab the bottle of lubricant and pouring some onto his fingers -- warming it too before slicking his cock with it, condom already on. 

Sitting up on his knees, Damian grabbed Vincent by the hips and pulled him closer. Vicent wrapped his thighs around Damian’s waist as the other man lined himself up and finally, finally pushed in. 

Damian watched himself disappear into Vincent’s body. They both gave a guttural groan in unison as he sank his cock in to the hilt. Leaning forward at an almost awkward angle, Damian pressed his forehead against Vincent’s and froze for several beats while buried inside of him, waiting for Vincent’s go-ahead. Vincent reached up and kissed him before nodding silently, telling him he was ready. 

He moved slowly at first, allowing Vincent to become familiar with the sensation again before bending to nip at his collarbone. This was the only warning Vincent got as Damian slammed his hips forward, reaching down to cup Vincent’s cheeks and lifting him further to make it easier to set a rougher pace. Vincent shouted in surprise and ecstasy as stars dotted his vision a moment. 

Instead of the quiet sound of soft kisses, the caravan was now filled with the  _ ah’s  _ Vincent made with each stroke and the clapping of Damian’s hips against Vincent’s thighs. Vincent always said he liked that the most -- it sounded like applause, the narcissist. Vincent pried his hands from where they were grasping the sheets enough to tear to scratch his perfectly manicured nails down Damian’s back, raking them down in such a way that would certainly leave marks for the next day, causing Damian to groan loudly. 

He caught Vincent in another hungry, searing kiss, both drunk on the feeling of desire. Settling into his hard and fast rhythm, with one hand he reached down to pump Vincent’s cock. The motions were messy with his mind mostly on his own pleasure, but it was enough to have Vincent moaning like a whore with his eyes rolled back. 

“Oh,  _ God _ , yes!” Vincent shouted. 

Damian smiled to himself a bit at Vincent’s reactions. Damian could admit that his ego was almost as big as Vincent’s, and his partner knew how to stroke it expertly as well as his own. 

“ _ Harder _ ,  _ deeper _ ,” Vincent begged. Who was Damian to deny that? 

Damian pulled out, leaving Vincent feeling empty -- but only for a moment as he quickly flipped him over and situated them differently so that he was face down on the mattress. With his strong arms, Damian moved Vincent how he wanted him, lifting his ass into the air and pressing the small of his back down to be angled in such an exquisite way inside of him. Lining himself up again, Damian pushed back in, and Vincent keened at the fullness of Damian deep inside of him. Vincent moved to touch his own cock which had become painfully neglected and pressed into the bed, but Damian grabbed both of his wrists and pinned them above his head. 

Vincent made an elated sound between a moan and a gasp. He  _ loved  _ when Damian was more dominant like this. 

Vincent could feel that the whole of his small caravan was starting to shake as Damian pounded into him. He cried out when Damian angled his hips just right and finally hit that sweet spot inside of him. His face and chest burned, and he knew that he must be as flushed as a rose -- red up to his ears and across his shoulders. He always hated when that happened, but in the back of his mind he was reminded that it only spurred Damian on further. He certainly felt it now. 

The blood was rushing in his ears and his lower legs bounced in the air with each stroke Damian made. He felt Damian release one of his hands so smack his ass, but he didn’t dare move from his position. This was the only situation in which the magician had no want for escape. 

The same hand that was used to spank him moved up again to grab his hair and Damian pulled hard. Vincent moaned loudly, sure that their neighboring campers could hear now. He pulled his hair enough that Vincent arched back so that Damian could bite down on the soft flesh of his neck, latching on a moment before lapping at the bruise already forming. He could taste the saltiness of Vincent’s sweat. 

Vicent’s breath hiccuped, and panting, he rasped, “Careful, I have shows all day tomorrow. Have to--  _ AH! Fuck... _ cover that.” 

Damian only grunted in response, but pulled back and let go, pushing Vincent back into the mattress and instead grabbing his waist tightly and digging his fingers in, pulling Vincent’s hips down harder onto his cock. He set a more animalistic pace now, hips snapping in such a way that made Vincent’s toes curl in pleasure. 

Vincent came first. Time slowed and shattered, and his heart skipped as he dissolved into pleasure and felt his hot cum spread between the mattress and his stomach. They’d have to change the sheets, now. 

Damian sped up his pace almost impossibly further, hips stuttering -- he wouldn’t be long now. Vincent pushed his hips back to meet him, a little overstimulated between the dick inside of him and the friction of his now softening cock against the mattress. Damian was losing his rhythm now, and Vincent clenched around him, causing him to come with a shout -- it was like lightning moving through every nerve in his body. 

Slowing his pace to a stop, Damian took a deep breath, steadying himself before he pulled out for the last time tonight. They collapsed on the bed together, tired but sated. Damien carefully pulled the condom off, tying it before tossing it into the nearest trash bin. 

The room was quiet once again, nothing but the two of them catching their breath. The smell of sweat and sex blended with the sweet, smoky air of the caravan. Vincent wished he could bottle it.

After a moment, Vincent asked, “Why’d you leave so many marks?” He usually wasn’t so possessive. 

Damian sighed, “I see the way men and women alike look at you when you perform. Marking you up more obviously will get rid of such nuisances.” 

Vincent huffed. “I sure hope they look at me in awe. Do you see how much time and effort I put into my makeup and routine every day?” 

Damian gave a low chuckle and shook his head. “You’re a brat.” 

Vincent only elbowed him lightly. “You like it.” 

He hummed, then was silent for a long moment. 

Damian sat up on his elbows next to him and turned on his side, resting his chin on one hand. With the other, he brought it up to Vincent’s cheek, running his thumb along his cheekbone and tracing the same line with his eyes almost reverently. “ _ Te iubesc,”  _ he whispered. Vincent gave him a soft smile in return. “Love you, too.” 

And for once in his life, he meant it to someone. 


	2. Draft Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Version/Draft Two of "Dangerous Illusion" -- hopefully better ;-;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This version was edited and fixed up by cedarbranch here on AO3. Thank you, Nat!

**_Outskirts of St. Louis, Missouri. September 1924_ **

It was a cool night, the air filled with a chorus of crickets and a faintly whispering breeze. Vincent was sitting on a foldable chair outside of his personal caravan and sipping on a Gin Rickey cocktail, watching Damian do his nightly workout. He shivered a little with the chill seeping through his loose clothing. Their last show had finished hours ago, so he now watched in only a pair of trousers and his halfway-unbuttoned shirt. His makeup had already been removed, his hair washed and messed from its usual slicked-back style. He might think to go back inside, get some respite from the night air, if the view weren’t so thoroughly worthwhile. 

Damian was doing pushups, sweat shining on his skin, with the moonlight giving it a pale glow. Vincent leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and swirled the last of his drink around in his glass. Damian’s muscles were taut as strings. With his routine, they’d certainly be strong enough to lift himself and a couple of men more. Most of the other performers had gone to bed to prepare for the show the next morning, but Damian was relentless. 

Vincent’s finger tapped the side of the glass, making a small  _ clink _ where it met the ring on his finger. Once upon a time, Damian’s mother had meant for him to wear it when he married some pretty American girl and gave her plenty of grandchildren. That wouldn’t come to be. Damian had given it to Vincent instead. They couldn’t get married, of course, and Vincent probably wouldn’t live to see the day where they could, but one day they’d been lying in the field beyond the town together, and Damian had awkwardly but simply handed it to him.  _ “It was my father’s ring,”  _ he’d said in that lovely accent of his,  _ “Before he died. I want you to have it. We can pretend.”  _

Damian had said then too that Vincent’s eyes were the same as the forget-me-nots that grew in Romania when he was a child. It made Vincent hate them a little less for looking like his father’s. 

The other performers in their show might have thought Vincent had found a wife back home (he didn’t have a home, not anymore, but they didn’t need to know that) -- some nameless woman who longed for him to come home, and that he must miss her terribly. It was a good thing he’d found such…  _ good company  _ in their best acrobat, they’d say. If Kristof found out the true nature of their “dalliances,” there was always a chance they could be out of the job, but Vincent had some suspicions about Mr. Alberti of his own, so he paid little heed to any warnings. It was almost fun to flaunt his sexuality, silently daring anyone to put a name to what he was. His parents had always worried about him being a bit of a daisy, but with the kind of  _ unique individuals  _ that they worked with, being a homosexual was far less taboo than fucking a coworker. 

Vincent could do whatever he liked, though. The Greatest Show on Earth wouldn’t be half as great without him. 

Downing the last of his gin, Vincent stood and set the glass back on the chair. Damian was doing pull ups on the gymnast bar, the muscles beneath his skin rippling and flexing as he pulled his full body weight up and down again. Vincent walked over to him, his eyes tracking every motion. Damian was short but strong -- acrobats were always built somewhere between the lithe form of a dancer and the stocky tank of a gymnast. Vincent loved Damian’s body as much as Damian did. He was wearing nothing but a tucked-in wife beater and the tights he performed in, hugging the curves of his ass and creating a prominent bulge in the front. Vincent didn’t bother to conceal the way his eyes lingered. He knew Damian was vividly aware of both his presence and gaze, but both of them pretended not to care. 

He took out his cigarette case and plucked out a lucky, placing it delicately between his lips and lighting it, watching Damian all the while. He inhaled, feeling the warmth fill his lungs and head. He held the smoke there for a moment, then let it go. It caught in his lungs on the exhale, and he cleared his throat--he didn’t intend to interrupt Damian, but Damian let go of the bar, dropping to the ground. 

_ “La naiba!” _ he hissed under his breath, rubbing at his sore palms.

Vincent gestured toward Damian’s hands with the cigarette. “I told ya you’d get blisters if you don’t use that chalk powder Alberti insists on.” 

“And I tell you to quit smoking,” Damian said with a grimace. “We don’t always listen to reason.” He walked over and plucked the half-finished cigarette from Vincent’s fingers, flicking it to the ground and stamping on it. Vincent pouted. “I have a better grip on the bar without the chalk,” Damian continued. “The callouses that form only help me.” 

“Calloused hands, or a calloused soul?” Vincent mused.

Damian huffed. “I’m in no mood for your philosophical talk.”

“Very well,” Vincent said, smiling. If Damian wasn’t in the mood for philosophy, perhaps he’d be in the mood for something else. Vincent couldn’t lie, (actually, he could quite well), watching Damian had gotten him a little riled up, though the chill helped him keep his sense. “It’s cold tonight,” he said casually. “Think you could use some company? My caravan is quite warm, and so am I.” 

Damian raised an eyebrow. “You call this cold? What’s this about?”

They both knew, but Damian wanted him to say it. Vincent could oblige. 

“I like watching you,” he said coyly. “You’re quite a sight when you’re working out.” 

Damian gave a rare chuckle. “You sound like that Magnus fellow, always watching. And I believed you thought yourself the most beautiful man in the world.” 

Vincent grinned and raised his hands in playful defense. “I think you’re the bee’s knees, baby, you know that.” 

Taking Damian by the hand, he led him into his caravan. The inside was small, but just as flamboyant as he was onstage -- intricately decorated with reds and golds, and filled with a menagerie of tricks and trinkets. The camper stove burned low with dying coals, filling the air with the scent of smoke and sweet herbs. The room was warm, and bathed soft yellow light from the new electric lantern in the corner. Vincent turned to look back at Damian. The shadows played off every contour of his body, and made his face look sharper, his eyes hungry. 

Vincent took a step closer, reaching around Damian to push the door shut. Damian took hold of his hips and pulled him closer, as graceful yet firm as if he was pulling Vincent through the air for one of his acrobatic tricks. 

It was all the invitation Vincent needed. He shoved Damian up against the door. Damian was still breathing hard from his workout, and now Vincent was too from the intoxication of both arousal and gin. He cupped Damian’s jaw with both hands and looked into his walnut-brown eyes intensely — and if Damian were to describe it, hypnotically. He leaned in and brushed his lips lightly across Damian’s, making him shiver ever so slightly, only noticeable in the flare of his breath against Vincent’s lips. They lingered there for a moment, breathing each other's air, Damian’s fingers digging into Vincent’s hips. Energy crackled and sparked between them like electricity. 

“Don’t tease,” Damian whispered against Vincent’s lips. 

“You like it,” Vincent breathed, and finally caught Damian’s lips in a heated kiss. 

Their teeth clicked together with the force of it, a crushing, almost bruising insistence underscoring every closing of their mouths against each other. Vincent slid his fingers down Damian’s neck to his chest and tugged at the collar of his undershirt. Damian hummed in response and pulled back, quickly throwing the shirt over his head and tossing it aside. As soon as his hands were free, he grabbed Vincent by the shoulders. Vincent’s breath caught in his throat. Quick as a flash, Damian turned them around and slammed him back against the door so that they’d switched places. Vincent relished in the pressure of Damian’s hands pinning him back, and kissed him hard, feeling almost dizzy with need. He shakily undid the rest of the buttons on his shirt, doing his best to seductively slide the fabric off his shoulders, exposing milk-white and willowy arms. It was always a marvel how different they were — Damian’s strong and calloused hands lifting Vincent’s undershirt off, and Vincent’s own delicate fingers caressing his jaw. Damian’s eyes raked over Vincent’s bare chest, and they stayed there for a moment, staring at each other. He took a step back toward the best, and Vincent followed him instinctively, like a magnet pulled in his wake. 

“ _ Ǐngeraș _ , darling…” Damian gave him the smallest hint of a smile. “You drive me mad.” 

Vincent smiled. “I hope so.” 

He gave a small, surprised shout when Damian pulled him forward and shoved him down onto the bed. For a moment, it felt like he was falling harder and faster than should’ve been possible. Wind whipped past his ears, and his head reeled with the sudden feeling of weightlessness — then he landed on the bed with a huff, safe and solid. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Vincent pouted. 

Damian chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re surprised,” he said with a shrug. 

He climbed onto the bed to straddle Vincent, leaning over him so Vincent could feel his breath. Almost as soon as their lips met, Damian sucked Vincent’s lip into his mouth, biting down on it and pulling gently. When he let it go, a warm and tingling sensation remained. Damian ran his tongue over Vincent’s lips, like a silent request for permission to enter. Vincent granted it, opening his lips more and tilting his head to deepen the kiss. He groaned as Damian massaged his tongue against his. The room was silent save for the wet sound of their lips moving together, with the occasional huff or moan. 

They wouldn’t stay that way for long, though. The heat beneath Vincent’s skin burned too hot to be ignored. Damian shoved a hand between his legs and roughly groped the bulge in his trousers, making his heart stutter in his chest. Damian massaged him through the fabric for several beats, burying his face in Vincent’s neck to bite and suck a hickey where it met his shoulder where it wouldn’t be seen. Vincent let out a high-pitched whine, arching his hips up, longing for more friction. Damian chuckled lowly and pulled away once more, this time reaching for Vincent’s belt. 

Damian was torturously slow pulling off Vincent’s pants and underwear. Vincent’s dick flopped against his stomach, flushed and hard. He whined again, pulling at Damian’s hands, but he was busy pulling down his own tights. He kept eye contact with Vincent as he peeled them off, exposing his full length. He hadn’t been wearing underwear beneath them — acrobrats never did, a fact which Vincent was endlessly grateful for. 

He sat up and climbed onto his knees in front of Damian, the both of them now completely naked. He knew his mouth must be red and swollen from being kissed. He made eye contact with Damian and licked his lips before taking him into his mouth. His head bobbed a few times before he hollowed his cheeks and sucked, then sloppily swirled his tongue around the head. Damian bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut, head falling back. His black wavy hair fell over his eyes. That wouldn’t do — as attractive as it was, Vincent wanted him to watch. He added a hand to start pumping and practically took him into his throat. Damian made a strangled noise low in his throat. Vincent smiled and slid his fingers down to tease at his balls, and Damian gave another hoarse gasp, eyes opening and his hips jerking forward. Vincent made a choked sound and pulled back a bit. 

Vincent gently scraped his teeth up the side of Damian’s cock before dipping his tongue into the slit, moaning softly. Damian bit his lip. Vincent could see the daze of pleasure in his eyes, feel it in the way his thighs tensed, and soon enough, his panting grew louder and his cock twitched against Vincent’s tongue — only for Vincent to pull away. He gave a husky laugh when Damian whimpered, barely audible. 

“I’m not letting you finish yet,” he said. 

Climbing back onto the bed and reaching over to the drawer, Vincent pulled out the small bottle of oil he kept there and a condom. He handed the cardboard envelope that held the condom to Damian and opened the bottle, pouring some of the thick lubricant onto his fingers. He rubbed it between them to warm it up before laying back down on the bed and spreading his legs. 

Knowing that Damian’s eyes were on him, Vincent lightly ran a hand from his neck down to his groin, keeping eye contact with him. The feather-light touch of his own fingers on his dick wasn’t nearly enough, but he forced himself to pass over it and open himself up instead. He massaged the rim with one slick finger and inhaled quietly but sharply, tensing for a moment at the sensation. Damian’s gaze followed every move. A hot flush swept over Vincent. His cock ached to be touched, but he brought his free hand up to his nipple to play with it instead, a small shock of pleasure to take the edge off.

They’d been traveling and working so much, it had been too long since they’d done this last. Vincent breathed out slowly and closed his eyes, bidding himself to relax. He prodded his hole a moment before slowly sliding his finger in. He shuddered, savoring the sensation of both his finger pumping in and out, and Damian’s gaze practically searing into where he watched Vincent work. When the mild discomfort melted into nothing but pleasure, Vincent added a second finger, fucking himself open in front of Damian. He let out a hoarse groan as he curled his fingers and a burst of ecstasy shot through him. He was a naturally loud lover, but still a performer at heart, and never refrained from putting on a show. He stretched himself open more with his fingers, testing the waters before adding in a third finger. He bit his lip and moaned, savoring the feeling of fullness.

He felt Damian crawl onto the bed and move on top of him, clearly tired of just watching. Eyes still closed, Vincent lifted his head to meet Damian in a deep kiss. He whimpered into it when Damian grabbed Vincent’s cock and started to stroke it slowly, pumping it a few times before letting go and bringing the hand to his jaw. 

Vincent pulled back just enough to speak. “I’m ready,” he whispered, and carefully pulled his fingers out. He opened his eyes to watch Damian grab the bottle of lubricant and pour some onto his fingers -- warming it too before slicking his cock with it, condom already on. Sitting up on his knees, he grabbed Vincent by the hips and pulled him closer. Vicent wrapped his thighs around Damian’s waist as the other man lined himself up and finally, finally pushed in. 

They both gave a guttural groan in unison as he bottomed out inside Vincent. Leaning forward at an almost awkward angle, Damian pressed his forehead against Vincent’s and paused, panting, waiting for the go-ahead. Vincent leaned up and kissed him before nodding silently, squeezing his hips in a silent affirmative. 

Damian moved slowly at first, allowing Vincent to adjust to the sensation again before bending to nip at his collarbone. It was the only warning Vincent got before Damian slammed his hips forward. Vincent shouted with surprise, stars bursting across his vision. Damian grabbed him and lifted him further to make it easier to set a rougher pace. Instead of the quiet sound of soft kisses, the caravan was now filled with Vincent’s breathy  _ ah’s  _ and the clapping of Damian’s hips against his thighs. Vincent always liked that the most -- it sounded like applause. He dug his perfectly manicured nails into Damian’s back, raking them down in such a way that would certainly leave marks for the next day. Damian groaned loudly and caught Vincent in another hungry, searing kiss, both drunk on the feeling of desire. Settling into his hard and fast rhythm, with one hand he reached down to pump Vincent’s cock. The motions were messy with his mind mostly on his own pleasure, but it was enough to have Vincent moaning like a whore with his eyes rolled back. 

“Oh,  _ God _ , yes!” Vincent cried out. “Harder, please!” He knew Damian wouldn’t be able to resist if he begged. Sure enough, Damian pulled out, leaving an empty feeling in his wake -- but only for a moment. Damian quickly flipped him over and situated them differently so that Vincent was face down on the mattress. With his strong arms, Damian moved him how he wanted him, lifting his ass into the air and pressing the small of his back down to be angled perfectly. Lining himself up again, Damian pushed back in, and Vincent keened at the pressure of Damian deep inside of him. Vincent moved to touch his own cock which had become painfully neglected and pressed into the bed, but Damian grabbed both of his wrists and pinned them above his head. Vincent let out a sound that was half-moan and half-gasp. He  _ loved  _ when Damian was more dominant like this. 

Vincent could feel that the whole of the caravan starting to shake as Damian pounded into him. He cried out when Damian angled his hips just right and finally hit the sweet spot. His face and chest burned, and he knew that he must be as flushed as a rose -- red up to his ears and across his shoulders. He always hated when that happened, but in the back of his mind, he was reminded that it only spurred Damian on further. He certainly felt it now. Damian smacked his ass, and Vincent shuddered but didn’t dare move from his position. This was the only situation in which he had no want for escape. 

Damian grabbed his hair with the same hand and pulled hard. Vincent moaned loudly, sure that their neighboring campers could hear now. He arched his back so that Damian could bite down on the softest part of his neck, sucking it hard before running his tongue over the bruise that was already forming. Vicent’s breath hiccuped. “Careful,” he rasped. “I have shows all day tomorrow. Have to--  _ AH! Fuck... _ cover that.” 

Damian didn’t respond with more than a grunt, but he pulled back and let go, pushing Vincent back into the mattress. He grabbed his waist tightly to pull Vincent down harder onto his cock, his hips snapping more insistently. It sent sparks up Vincent’s spine, his toes curling. He gasped for breath, a buzz of pleasure spreading across his body, like a cup filling up to the brim. Damian kept fucking into him, and all at once, it peaked, spilling over and overwhelming Vincent’s senses. Time slowed and shattered as he dissolved into pleasure and came with a moan, feeling it spread hot and sticky between his stomach and the mattress. 

Damian sped up his pace almost impossibly further, hips stuttering -- he wouldn’t be long now. Vincent pushed his hips back to meet him, a little overstimulated between the dick inside of him and the friction of his now softening cock against the mattress, and clenched around him. Damian’s hips bucked once, twice more, and he dug his fingers into Vincent’s hips hard as he came with a groan. Gradually, he slowed and stopped moving. He took a deep breath to steady himself before he pulled out for the last time. They collapsed on the bed together, tired but sated. Damien carefully pulled the condom off, tying it before tossing it into the nearest trash bin. 

The room was quiet once again, with no sound but the two of them catching their breath. The smell of sweat and sex blended with the sweet, smoky air of the caravan. Vincent wished he could bottle it. He laid back and stretched lazily, basking in the resulting ache of his muscles. His neck and chest were blotched with ruddy red marks, some of them beginning to bloom plum-purple in the center. They stood out against his pale skin like rose petals. Vincent idly traced his fingers around one of them. 

“Why’d you leave so many marks?” he asked. Damian usually wasn’t so possessive. 

Damian sighed. “I see the way men and women alike look at you when you perform,” he said under his breath. “Marking you up more obviously will get rid of such nuisances.” 

Vincent huffed. “Of course they look at me. I would hope they’d be in awe — do you know how much work it takes to look this good?” 

Damian gave a low chuckle and shook his head. “You’re a brat.” 

Vincent elbowed him lightly. “You like it.” Damian only hummed. 

Silence fell between them for a long moment.

Damian sat up on his elbows and turned on his side to look at Vincent, resting his chin on one hand. The other, he brought up to Vincent’s cheek, running his thumb along his cheekbone and tracing the same line with his eyes almost reverently. “ _ Te iubesc,”  _ he whispered. Vincent gave him a soft smile in return. 

“Love you, too,” he whispered. 

And for once in his life, he meant it to someone. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you again for reading :,) if you want to talk to me about these bastards or ask any questions, my NSFW twitter is @spiralnips with my SFW twitter, tumblr, and Instagram being @reanimatorjuice 
> 
> I also have a Discord server for other avatar OCs in the same circus! Ask me on any of my socials and I'll send ya the link


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